Learning Empathy
by ravengal
Summary: One shot. An AU to the episode Pokemon I Choose You. Ash meets Pikachu and discovers the true meaning of the title The World's Greatest Pokemon Master. He then passes his knowledge on to a certain redheaded girl who needs it...


**Ash's POV**

Today's the day. The day I get my first Pokemon. Pity I had to sleep in, though. As I rush as fast as my feet can possibly carry me down the path to Professor Oak's lab (in my pyjamas, by the way), I wonder what will be left. Will it be Squirtle, the one that I want? Will it be Bulbasaur, my second choice? Will it be Charmander, the toughest to handle, but strongest of all? I'm not too bothered which one I get, as long as I get one...

I arrive only to find Professor Oak's snooty grandson, Gary, with his "fanclub", which soon depart, leaving me to enter the lab and find myself with... a Pikachu?

It looks cute and very adorable, sitting there on the table, eating a berry, but as soon as I reach out and pat its head, I wish I hadn't. It sends approximately 10,000 volts surging through my skin (and Professor Oak's skin) and I curse mentally. I only tried to be nice... I then draw back my hand and glower at it, it glowering back.

All I wanted a Pokemon for was to use in battle, to train it up so it could become the strongest in the world and I could become the best trainer in the world. Every night, I dream of the same thing... standing on top of a mountain, twirling a Pokeball on my finger and smirking at all who stand below me, wearing a crown atop my head.

The idea of actually _training_ the Pokemon seems a bit of a drag, though. I don't want to have to spend my time working hard. I just want to be the best as soon as I can, since, in my childhood, I was always picked on for being "the weird kid with no ambition".

That's right. Once upon a time, I didn't care much about my future. All I wanted to do was live life to the fullest, but the bullying got me thinking otherwise. Now, I just want to be the world champion, invincible and undefeatable.

Professor Oak hands over a Pokedex (a hand-held computer system which identifies any Pokemon) and six Pokeballs (objects to catch Pokemon with) to take with me. I open the Pokedex and point it at Pikachu.

_Pikachu, the mouse Pokemon, _it informs me in a robot-like voice. _When several of these pokemon gather, their electricity could build and cause lightning storms._

"Wow," I say, "that's some pretty high voltage. I'd hate to be around a group of these things, all launching a thundershock attack at the same time."

"Yes," Professor Oak agrees, "a Pikachu can be a rather powerful Pokemon."

Putting away my Pokedex, I hold one of my Pokeballs out to Pikachu, signalling for it to get inside in order to make it travel convenient, but it relents, rendering me confused. I try again, this time _throwing_ the Pokeball at it, but, in a swift motion, it swings its tail around, sending the Pokeball right back into my face!

"Ouch! What is _wrong_ with that thing?" I angrily ask Professor Oak.

"Oh, yes, I forgot to tell you," he answers, "_he_ is claustrophobic."

"A claustrophobic Pokemon?" I exclaim, astounded. "How is that possible?"

"It's quite simple, Ash," he explains. "As you know, all humans have different characteristics. Some might be claustrophobic (scared of small spaces), while others might be brontophobic (scared of thunder) or even photophobic (scared of bright light). The exact same is true for Pokemon. They each have a unique characteristic."

"Oh," I reply, looking back at Pikachu, sitting quietly on the table.

"When this Pikachu was just a baby, he was crammed inside a small crate with many other baby Pikachus by poachers," he tells me. "I only managed to rescue this one, but that's how he got his phobia."

Suddenly, I understand, feeling a peculiar emotion that I recognise instantly as empathy. I gaze at Pikachu with sorrowful eyes, trying to imagine what a horrible experience he must have suffered. He gazes back at me, a quizzical look in his eyes. Evidently, he's trying to figure out whether or not I'm worthy enough for him to trust, judging by my reaction.

"So, Ash," Professor Oak says, lifting me from my trance, "do you think you're ready to take on such a challenge?"

"Yes," I answer. "I've finally realised that it's not about the winning, it's about treating your Pokemon with the respect and love they deserve, training them to the best of their ability, rather than to perfection."

"Way to go, Ash!" he says, beaming at me and slapping me on the back. "I have the utmost confidence in you now!"

Eventually, fully dressed, I say my farewells to my mother (and the rest of my friends and family) before journeying on, into the wild blue yonder, Pikachu by my side. I expected to have to tie him up with the washing line my mother packed for me and drag him along, wearing the rubber gloves she packed, just to avoid electrocution, but here he is, still observing me with a keen eye.

"Who knew you were claustrophobic?" I ask, attempting light-hearted conversation. "Other than Professor Oak, I mean."

"Pika Pika," he says to me, but I haven't the slightest clue what it's supposed to mean.

"Uh, does that mean no-one?" I ask.

"Pika," he replies, nodding his head.

"I'm quite surprised you haven't run away by now," I joke, laughing slightly.

He looks at me for a moment, observing me again, before smiling, his eyes sparkling with friendliness.

"_Cha_," he says gleefully, making me smile.

"Hey, Pikachu?" I say, suddenly remembering something. "Why did you shock me in the lab?"

"Pika Pi, Pi Pikachu," he replies and I slap a hand to my forehead. How could I have been so stupid as to forget I couldn't understand him?

"Sorry, but I can't understand you," I mumble apologetically, "so I'll just have to guess... Is it because you could sense that I didn't particularly value Pokemon at the time?"

"Pika," he replies, again nodding his head.

"Wow," I breathe, in awe. "I actually, sort of, understood you there!"

"Pi Pikachu!" he exclaims, jumping for joy. Suddenly, we hear a girl's voice from up ahead.

"Oh, darn you, Staryu! Why can't you do anything right?"

After exchanging glances, Pikachu and I slowly creep over and peer through the bushes, seeing a red-haired girl (a little older than me) with crystal blue eyes, complaining to a star-shaped Pokemon. I get out my Pokedex to analyse it.

_Staryu, the star shape Pokemon,_ it informs me. _An enigmatic Pokemon that can effortlessly regenerate any appendage it loses in battle._

"You let that Poliwag get away!" she shouts at the recoiling Pokemon, making my blood boil. "That's the third one today! I knew I should've used Starmie!"

"Hey, come on, knock it off!" I shout, dashing out from behind the bush.

"Pika Pi!" Pikachu shouts, darting to my side.

"What business is it of yours, stranger?" she shouts back.

"The name's Ash," I correct, irritated, "and I don't like the way you're treating your Staryu!"

"Oh yeah?" she replies, "Well _my_ name's Misty and I don't like the way you're getting involved!"

"Just look at that poor thing!" I shout, determined to make her see sense. "_I_ once thought of Pokemon that way, but everything changed when I met Pikachu here!"

"Aw, how cute," she says, sarcasm dripping from her voice. "How about we battle it out?"

I look at Pikachu, worried. He hasn't yet, under my guidance, had any experience in battling. I at least wanted him to practice before his first match, but he looks up at me, nodding but frowning. This is a personal battle. I copy his action and he dashes forward while Misty recalls her Staryu to its Pokeball.

"I choose you, Starmie!" she shouts, throwing a Pokeball. Out pops what looks like an advanced version of Staryu.

"What's that?" I ask my Pokedex as I point it at Starmie.

_Starmie, the evolved form of Staryu, _it informs me. _Its central core glows with the seven colours of the rainbow. Some people value the core as a gem._

"Starmie, tackle attack!" Misty shouts and the water Pokemon dives at Pikachu, who dodges out of the way, narrowly missing its spiralling, starfish body.

"Pikachu, thundershock attack!" I shout. A huge jolt of lightning shoots from his cheeks and courses through the body of the Starmie, rendering it too weak to proceed.

"No!" Misty wails, dropping to her knees and recalling her Pokemon. "I lost again! What am I doing wrong?"

"I'll tell you what you're doing wrong," I say, advancing upon her, Pikachu at my heels. "You don't seem to be comprehending what being a trainer is all about."

"Then please, explain it to me," she begs, looking up into my eyes. My breath catches in my throat as I stare deep into her heavenly blue eyes, brimming with unshed tears and looking so dazzling in the beams of sunlight falling upon us.

"Well, it goes like this," I explain, suddenly feeling awkward around her. Do I perhaps have the hots for her? No, I don't think so... do I? I don't know!

"Well?" she asks, sounding a bit irritated at my absence of words.

"It's, well, all about empathy, you see," I explain, feeling a little more confident. "Before I met Pikachu, I thought that becoming a Pokemon Master was all about the glory, not really caring who I trod on to get to the top, but now I see that, just like humans, Pokemon want to be treated as friends, not slaves, there to do all the work while we take the credit."

"I see what you mean," Misty murmurs, deep in thought.

"Take Pikachu, for example," I say, indicating my yellow, electric mouse friend. "When I met him, he didn't trust me, partly because of the way humans treated him in his childhood and partly because he could sense my feelings towards him. Pokemon can read negative vibes and that's probably why Staryu's struggling. They need to know you'll be there for them every step of the way, congratulating them on their victories and even congratulating them on trying their best."

"I completely understand now," Misty replies, tears streaking down her cheeks. "Oh, I can't believe how stupid I was to think that my water Pokemon were there only for my personal use, being the number one water Pokemon trainer. I feel so ashamed. I'm sorry... Please forgive me, Staryu, Stamie and Goldeen..."

At these last words, three water Pokemon burst out of their Pokeballs and huddle close to Misty, rubbing themselves against her to show that they do indeed forgive her. She smiles, face lined with tears, and brings them closer in a tight, warm hug. Meanwhile, I pull out my Pokedex to analyse the Pokemon that looks like a fish.

_Goldeen, the goldfish Pokemon, _it informs me. _Its tail fin billows like an elegant ballroom dress, giving it the nickname of the water queen._

"Thank you, Ash," Misty whispers, still cuddling her Pokemon. "How can I ever repay you for this?"

"It's okay, you don't have to repay me," I say, but Pikachu tugs on my trouser leg.

"Pikachu Pika Pi Pichu!" he says gleefully, pointing at Misty, then pointing down the path I have to walk next.

"Uh, I think he wants you to come with us," I tell Misty, who is returning her Pokemon to their Pokeballs.

"Really?" she asks, excited. "Can I? That would be so great!"

"Yeah, okay," I say, glad of a human travelling partner. "Why not?"

"Pi Pikachu!" Pikachu exclaims, jumping for joy again.

"Oh, thank you, Ash!" she cries, grabbing hold of me and hugging me tightly. My face turns a deep shade of crimson as she does so.

Possibly feeling my immense body heat, she lets go, backing up a little and blushing herself while Pikachu rolls around on the floor, laughing so hard he can't breathe.

So I taught Misty all about empathy, making her my new friend, but could we ever be more than that? Only time will tell...


End file.
